


I'll leave this with the darker night, and I know that it will find me in time.

by proboning



Series: I am what you need when you can't find it somewhere else. [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Stiles was 13, allusions to rape, also molestation, there's also vague mentions of blood, this wasn't where this was supposed to go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proboning/pseuds/proboning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Excerpt: "It’s stupid, really. They shouldn't be fighting and Stiles shouldn't be turning away from him and silently slipping his way through the house and out the door."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll leave this with the darker night, and I know that it will find me in time.

**Author's Note:**

> Not betad. Notes at the end.  
> Also, the molestation/rape isn't graphic because I am not equipped to handle that type of thing and it's told in story form in a non-detailed way, the violence is also skimmed over. But it needs to be warned for.
> 
> This is apparently what I do on my birthday. What am I doing with my life omg...

*****

It’s stupid, really. They shouldn’t be fighting and Stiles shouldn’t be turning away from him and silently slipping his way through the house and out the door. He shouldn’t feel the white hot anger, bitter disappointment, and overly-sweet sadness in the back of his mind and on the back of his tongue. But they are and he is; he does.

Derek wishes Stiles could understand where he’s coming from, why he feels the way he does. And Derek knows he _understands_ , Stiles isn’t stupid or deliberately clueless about how others feel, especially Derek, but he wants Stiles to _get it_ but he’s still so stubborn. But Derek is too.

He can feel Lydia staring at him, feel the disappointment and disdain in her gaze. She ignored Stiles for years, but she knows how smart he is now, how sweet, how he just wants to care about her, about everyone, so she loves him. She protects him. She will tear you apart of you hurt him enough. And Derek may be her alpha, but she isn’t scared and will break Derek down, insult him, and make him see how horrible he is for hurting Stiles’s feelings. It’s that bravery that makes her a good beta, a good wolf.

“It’s not that big of a deal, you know. We’re all going off. He should be able to as well.” Her voice is quiet, but convinced.

Derek doesn’t look at her, just continues to glare at the opposite wall, jaw clenching and his fingers curling tight. “It’s not the same thing.”

He can hear Lydia huff, and bets there’s an eye roll to go with it. “It really is. Stiles studied the whole time he was with you, he’s smart, naturally picks things up quickly. He has his GED, he should be able to go to college. If we’re going, so is he.” While she was talking, she stood straight, defiant and challenging.

Derek turns his glare on her, getting a raised eyebrow in response. “It _is_ different. He has no use for college. Alphas are supposed to be here to look over our territory, and that’s me. And Stiles. He’s not going to school and leaving the territory vulnerable.”

“You just don’t want him to leave _you_ vulnerable. That’s the real problem. Derek, the insecure act you have is cute at first, but it gets old after being around it for so long. Stiles loves you, he’s your mate. You’ve claimed each other, there’s _no turning back_ for you. For him. There’s no way Stiles is going to leave you for someone else. It’s actually insulting that you would think that.” She purses her lips, hand curling into a fist for a minute before relaxing again. “But that’s not important. The point is that he deserves this. After everything he’s been through, he deserves having this little bit of normalcy. He wants it. It’s such a small thing to give him.” Her voice goes soft, eyes following. Protective.

Derek doesn’t say anything, and Lydia, recovering quickly from the display of emotion, rolls her eyes and turns towards the door. “He’s gone out to think, as I’m sure you know. Maybe you should too. Reevaluate some of your reasoning.” She leaves, halfway up the stairs before calling, “And if you don’t let him leave willingly, I’ll take him with me to Harvard. _Across the country _.”__

He growls, catching the faint sound of Lydia’s laughter from the ceiling. Derek takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly to clear his mind. The bond is completely quiet, no half-thoughts or emotions flowing, meaning Stiles is actively repressing them from Derek’s reach. He leaves out the side door, deciding to do his own thinking while working on the Camaro, an almost twin of his sister’s, only he’s having to completely rebuild it. A birthday gift, from Laura, it doesn’t seem like much but it’s perfect for Derek. He loves working on cars, and has always secretly wanted Laura’s, and working on it relaxes him.

Lydia has a point. She always has a point, though. Stiles is smart, smarter than almost everyone in the pack, save Lydia. But Lydia doesn’t have Stiles’s instincts, nor does she think as fast on her feet. Stiles didn’t even have to study for his GED, since he wasn’t allowed to attend school he read from the Hale library, and Derek and Laura would let him read and work from their textbooks; they basically homeschooled him. Stiles merely got the GED practice workbook, read through it and did the math problems and took the test. He passed with the highest score and got his diploma in the mail. Derek’s father has it framed along with Derek’s high school diploma, and Laura’s high school and college diplomas in his office.

Stiles has been talking about college since Laura came back from getting her degree. Always wistfully, because he never thought he’d be free and that he’d be able to go, but like it would be the greatest thing. And now Derek is keeping him from that, from that dream that he’s had since he was fourteen.

It’s really not that fair. He doesn’t even want to go far, just to a college a few towns over. He would even be able to come back every weekend, if he wasn’t drowning in homework. And let’s be honest, even if he was. He promised Derek he would get his degree, and then come home, get a job, and that would be it, he would be content to stay in Beacon Hills for the rest of their lives.

Derek sighs, if he couldn’t give that to Stiles, what kind of mate did that make him? What kind of person? He decides they need to talk more, preferably with less yelling and more listening on Derek’s part. He’ll more than likely end up giving in, but he always does, doesn’t he?

He doesn’t realize how late it’s gotten until Scott and Allison pull into the driveway, carrying enough boxes of pizza to feed an army. And Isaac runs out of the house, latching onto Scott and declaring his undying love for him.

Derek looks around, noticing the darkening forest and pink hue to the sky. “Did Stiles come back yet?” He can’t believe he would be so wrapped in his own thoughts not to notice his mate’s return. It would have put him more at ease, and his wolf would have wanted to make sure he was uninjured and safe.

Isaac frowns, eyes becoming impossibly wide and the sour smell of worry bursting from his pours. “No. He hasn’t.” 

Derek and Scott both tense, senses heightening and narrowing in on the woods around them. Danny and Jackson pull up, noticing the tension and asking what’s wrong. Allison quietly tells them that Stiles is missing and Derek feels their wolves bristle. He rushes inside, calling for everyone to meet in the kitchen.

Scott throws the pizzas on the counter as everyone crowds into the room. “Have any of you heard from Stiles?”

Everyone shakes their heads, different levels of worry etched into their faces, except Boyd, who wouldn’t show it anyway. Derek growls. “We have to look for him.”

Lydia makes a small sound. “Are you sure? I mean, you guys did have a pretty bad fight, how do we know he’s not just lost in his thoughts. It happens a lot.” It does. Stiles can get lost in his own head for hours if he has the time, but this feels different.

“He’s never been gone this long before. He was gone when I got home, and that was hours ago.” Erica butts in, she looks ready to jump into action, muscles tense and eyes bright.

“Erica’s right. And even if he is just thinking somewhere, we should still look for him. Just in case.” Danny looks to the side at Jackson, who’s looking more lost by the second. “Plus,” His eyes move to the counter. “Pizza.”

“We’ll split up. Into groups. Erica and Boyd, Danny and Jackson, Scott, Allison and Isaac. And Lydia’s with me. Erica and Boyd, cover the west side of the woods; Danny and Jackson, the east; Lydia and I will head north where he usually goes; Scott, Allison, and Isaac will cover south towards the road. If you pick up his scent, howl. Let’s go.” Everyone files out of the backdoor, shifting into their half-forms, and heading in the direction they’re assigned.

Lydia flits ahead of him, always faster, and zigzags between the trees. She stops suddenly half a mile or so in, pulling a confused face, her nose crinkling. “That’s weird.” She looks to the right, eyes narrowing. “He never goes that way.” She takes off, but keeps at a pace Derek can keep up with, there’s a strange scent mingling with Stiles’s, and she doesn’t seem to want to provoke Derek if it’s dangerous by running ahead. It seems familiar though, but Derek can’t figure out why.

The forest out here gets dense, trees everywhere. It’d be hard to navigate if they weren’t wolves, and easy to get lost in too. Lydia throws an arm out to stop Derek midstride, looking around wildly. She leans close, enough for him to smell the light berry scent of her perfume. “We’re getting closer, but there’s someone else with him. We have to be quiet.” Derek scowls, moving to continue his path through the woods, but Lydia digs her nails in. “Derek, I’m serious. We can go together, at a slow pace since you make much more noise when you run, or I can run ahead and see who he’s with. Pick one.”

Derek glares, but she just glares back, eyes hard and as fiery as her hair. “Fine.” He grits. “We walk.”

They make their way over tree roots and through dry foliage, Lydia as light and silent as ever and Derek conscious enough not to make any sound. Stiles’s scent is getting stronger, and Derek can tell they’re close to him. After a few minutes they start to hear two heartbeats, one fast and anxious, the other steady and slow. 

Lydia stops with a cock of her head and veers off to the left, crouching down to all fours and crawling over to a thick tree, scenting the air slightly and baring her teeth, motioning to Derek that they’re behind the trunk.

Derek nods and continues forward, making a circle so he comes up behind Stiles and whoever he’s with; his blood boils at the sight. Stiles is trapped between a tree and a man, a werewolf and alpha at that. The man has his face close to Stiles’s and his body close enough that their clothes are brushing together. Derek can hear him whispering, but he’s doing it low enough that only Stiles will be able to pick up on what he’s saying. Stiles has his eyes closed and his hands clenched at his sides, a pained dent between his eyebrows.

Derek shifts his weight, popping the joints in his neck before letting his canines elongate and his eyes bleed red. The stranger tenses, claws coming out and digging into the tree bark. Stiles’s eyes snap open, and he lets out a visible sigh of relief at seeing Derek. The man slowly straightens, turning and letting a smirk takeover his face. “Ah, nephew. It’s nice to see you.”

Derek’s surprised, mad at himself for not recognizing Peter’s scent before now, but he keeps his face neutral. “Peter.” His smile is sure to look a little crazed with his canines, but that’s not exactly a bad thing. “What are you doing here? What are you doing with my _mate_?”

Peter’s smirk turns dirtier. “Just revisiting old memories. Those were quite good times, weren’t they, Stiles?” He doesn’t spare a glance at Stiles though, holds Derek’s gaze, instead.

Lydia peeks around the tree, slipping her fingers around Stiles’s bicep and carefully pulling him from behind Peter. Peter looks over his shoulder, sighing, and shrugging his shoulders in faux disappointment. “Why did you have to do that? No matter, I’m sure I’ll get him back. After all, we have such a lovely history together. I turned him, he belongs to me, he’s aware of this. He can feel it.” He smirks at Derek again. “Has Stiles told you about how we met? All, the fun we had?”

Stiles bursts from behind a tree beside Derek, followed by Derek’s pack, all coming from separate trees. They create a circle around them, all of the turned werewolves baring their teeth at Peter, tense to attack. “Don’t listen to him Derek. He’s trying to piss you off.”

“Oh Stiles, I would have thought you told him.” Peter smiles at him, looking like he wants to devour him. “All those afternoons we spent together, they can’t have meant nothing.” He frowns, playing the hurt card flawlessly.

Derek looks over at Stiles. “Afternoons?” Stiles blanches and swallows thickly, his jaw ticks before he opens it to respond, but Peter beats him to it.

Peter looks between them. “Oh, he really didn’t tell you.” He tsks Stiles, shaking his head. “Shame on you.” He smiles suddenly, teeth sharp, and voice dipping down into a purr. “Stiles and I had some wonderful days together. I so miss your skin, Stiles, it was always so soft and flushed so pretty when I ran my hands over it.” His grin turns nasty. “And your mouth, it’s really quite a _sin_.”

Derek jumps on him before he can think about it, digging his claws into Peter’s shoulders, drawing blood. Peter laughs and swipes his own nails down Derek’s cheek. “I’ll fight you for him, nephew.” Derek snarls and throws him into a tree. He falls to the ground, grinning up at Derek, moving into a crouched position. “To the death, of course.” He launches himself on Derek, sending them both to the ground.

Stiles had jerked forward as Derek attacked Peter, wanting to pull him back, but Scott and Isaac had held him in place. Boyd and Erica had moved in to help as the fight continued, and Stiles got more frantic as Derek acquired more and more injuries as the minutes ticked by.

Derek feels a sharp sting in his side, seeing four long, deep gashes where Peter dug his claws in and _pulled_. He ignores the sting and blood, throws his uncle against a tree, the same one Peter had Stiles pinned to, he notes distantly. Peter grins manically, teeth stained by blood and cuts adorning his face, a deep gash under his eye is gushing blood down his cheek. “Oh nephew, you shouldn’t be so mad that I got to him first.” Derek growls, trying not to listen, knowing Peter’s trying to distract him, to give himself an edge. He has him pinned by the throat, claws dogging into flesh, one a jerk of Derek’s wrist and he can tear it out. “But I can see why you are so angry. Not being the first to touch him, to feel him tremble under your fingertips. But I can tell you, Derek, the first time was _exquisite_.” Derek tightens his fingers and pulls, ripping his uncle’s throat to shreds, blood spraying onto his face and clothes. He lets the body drop to the dirt, the nasty smile still etched on Peter’s face. 

Derek stares at his uncle for a long time, his pack staying still and quiet behind him. He finally turns, finding them all staring at him, a mix between terror and relief on their faces. He falls to the ground the pain from his slow-healing wounds finally catching up, and the adrenaline crashing fast. Isaac, Scott, Boyd, and Erica let go of Stiles and he falls as well, crawling over to Derek and grabbing ahold of his shredded shirt, bending down to breathe a strangled sob into his chest.

Stiles pulls away quickly though, frantically running his eyes over Derek’s slumped frame; noting the deep gashes in his side and shoulder, the torn flesh from Peter’s teeth in his chest and arms, and all of the various cuts over his face and neck, and everywhere else really.

“Stiles.” He reaches out to wrap a hand in Stiles’s shirt, staring into his eyes intently; trying to convey how sorry he is and everything else he’s feeling. The bond just doesn’t seem like enough right now. Derek knows he won’t die, can already feel all of his wounds starting to heal, the blood slowing and bones and skin beginning to knit back together, but Derek is sorry. He’s sorry for fighting, he’s sorry for what Peter did, and that he had to watch Derek fight and kill him. Stiles doesn’t need to see anyone else die in front of him, whether they deserved it or not. But he’s not sorry for killing Peter, will _never_ be sorry for killing Peter.

Stiles scowls, it looks so silly on him. “Shut up you idiot.” He motions for Boyd and Scott to help him lift Derek up. Derek keeps his fingers wrapped in Stiles’s shirt, so it’s awkward and difficult, but as soon as they’re up Stiles takes the hand in his, holding tight all the way back through the forest to the house.

They end up on Derek and Stiles’s bed, Stiles cleaning the partially healed wounds, and all the extra blood from his skin, and then dressing him in soft pajamas. He finally settles, close to Derek, and touching him where he can. It’s quiet and Stiles keeps his voice down low when he speaks. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Derek. But I didn’t want you to know that I’m-I’m tainted like that. Messed up.”

Derek growls. “You’re not tainted. You’re perfect. He was the tainted one.” He takes a deep breath, pushing the thoughts of Stiles and Peter out of his mind as best he could. “I understand Stiles, I’m not mad. But I have to tell you that I’m not sorry I killed Peter and that if I could do it again, I would, and I would make it _slower_.

Stiles huffs out a small laugh, carefully slipping closer. “I know Derek, I know.”

He lets the silence spread, listening to Stiles calm heartbeat, curling into the peace coming through their bond, and letting the warmth of his mate help him heal faster. It doesn’t work for all mated pairs, but close proximity has always helped the healing process for them. “I’m sorry, Stiles. I’m sorry for the fight.”

Stiles sighs, the peace fading a bit to make room for tired anger. “I don’t want to talk about it Derek. You’re hurt and I don’t want to hash this out again.”

“I don’t want to either. I just,” He sighs. “I want you to be happy. And if that means leaving for college, then you should go. I’m not keeping you from that.”

Stiles is silent for a long time, so Derek doesn’t speak either, and the peace and anger slowly morphs into familiar contentment. “Ok. We’ll talk about it later, yeah? Maybe tomorrow, when you’re better and we’ve all recovered.”

Derek nods, closing his eyes and trying to sleep a bit. He must nod off because when he opens his eyes again, the bed has gotten a lot smaller, and hotter. He looks around, finding everyone piled onto the bed for a rare “puppy pile” as Stiles so lovingly puts it. Isaac is holding onto Stiles’s waist, with one arm squeezing tight around Derek’s arm. He’s fast asleep, as is Stiles. Lydia has made herself a bed across Stiles’s and Isaac’s legs, her head pillowed on Derek’s thigh, and her hand wrapped in Stiles’s. Erica is on Derek’ other side, hand lying lightly on his shoulder, too scared to touch too much; and Boyd is bent in half over them both, his legs next to Erica and his torso above Derek and Stiles. Scott has his side flush against Isaac’s back, Allison lying on top of him and Jackson; who is sprawled on his back next to Scott, his arms and legs spread enough that he’s almost touching Derek. Danny is pillowed on Allison’s back, one leg tangled with Jackson’s.

Derek sighs. Feeling that most of his wounds are healed, and pulling Stiles close, so he’s mostly on top of Derek. He smiles as everyone else shifts around them, lightly moving so everyone is touching one of their alphas.

He slides a hand up to card though Stiles’s hair. He knows there will be consequences for killing Peter, but Derek has enough witnesses to say it was in self-defense. Or defense of his pack. So he sighs again, closes his eyes, and goes back to sleep.

*****

Derek was right about the consequences. He woke up in the early morning, the same night he killed Peter, and ran to his parents’ house. He woke them up, and told them what had happened, that Peter was still in the woods, on the edge of his territory.

His father stayed silent, staring at him with a considering expression. While his mother and Laura stared at him in shock. “Derek,” His mother’s voice is high, a breathy whisper. “He is a government official. No matter what he’s done you can’t _kill_ him.”

“It was in defense of my pack. They were all there, they can back me up. Even Allison Argent was there, and she doesn’t consider herself part of my pack. She’s a hunter.”

“Derek, it’s not going to look that way! What made you think that was ok?!” Laura’s voice is shrill, her face panicked and eyes bleeding blue.

“He deserved it!” Derek never yells, especially at his family, it shuts everyone up, even makes Laura take a half-step back. Derek stares at them, eyes begging them to understand. “He has ruined so many peoples’ lives. He’s killed children and parents. He has forced the bite on people who can never take it away.” He scoffs and looks away, sighing and frowning at the floor. “He’s ruined my life, he’s ruined Stiles’s. You know, he molested Stiles. He raped him.” Laura’s face crumbles into shocked tears, his mother gasps and puts her hand to her mouth, and his father looks horrified. Like he really didn’t think Peter was capable of that, no matter how mad he was. “Stiles would kill me for telling you, but.” He shakes his head. “The point is he was corrupt, he was crazy and he shouldn’t have been doing what he was. And no matter what happens to me, I won’t regret it, so. I guess we’ll see where it goes.”

They were forced to report Peter’s death, and to explain what happened, and a week later Derek was called to a hearing. The whole pack was asked to come along, along with Allison. They each gave their versions of the story in front of the various human and werewolf government officials who would decide whether the killing was warranted or not and if Derek should be punished.

The man asking questions, Andrews, a straightforward, no nonsense guy has kept Stiles on the stand for nearing an hour, while everyone else was on and off. It’s starting to grate on everyone’s nerves, especially Stiles’s.

“Mr. Hale, you say that Peter Hale had accosted you while you were on a walk through the woods, is that correct?”

Stiles visibly collects himself, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes before answering. “For the tenth time, yes. I went to clear my head, and on my way back, he stepped out from behind a tree.”

The man nods, he’s heard this part so many times, he should be able to recite it himself now. “And what happened next?”

Stiles eyebrow twitches. “I’m sure you know, but I guess I’ll tell you again. He backed me into a tree and started talking to me.”

“And you thought this was a threat?”

Stiles shrugs. “He wouldn’t let me go, even though I asked him to. So yes, I did take that as a threat. I didn’t feel safe.”

“Well why didn’t you break away yourself then?”

“Because he was stronger than me. He’s an alpha. Does it really look like I would have gotten far?” He gestures to himself. “Not exactly built for fighting, here.”

The man nods, smiling tightly. “You’ve got a point.” There’s a pause. “So, your alpha, and mate, shows up and gets rid of him for you, then?”

Stiles’s eyes go hard and his shoulders tense. “He was defending me, he was defending his pack. Peter Hale was a loose cannon. He was threatening me, and Derek himself, so Derek did what he had to.”

Andrews looks shocked, it’s fake, see-through. “Which was kill him? Don’t you think that was a little excessive?”

Stiles stares at him, in obvious annoyance and disbelief. “To be honest, no. Peter Hale killed a lot of people. Children and adults. He molested and raped me when I was at a _government facility_ , where I should have been safe. So no, I don’t think it was _excessive_.” He spits the last word, jaw tightening, body stiff with the confession. And Derek wishes so much that he didn’t say that. It’s going to tear Stiles apart.

The entire room is silent. Derek’s pack and family sitting stiff in their chairs, and the officials are too shocked to move. The chief of the council recovers first, clearing his throat to ask, “Can you repeat that, son?”

Stiles sighs. “Peter Hale raped me.”

There’s a few more minutes of tense silence, but Andrews recovers. “No one else has ever reported any misconduct from Peter Hale. Why should we believe you?”

Stiles scoffs. “Well, I guess you don’t have to, now do you? But Peter didn’t _want_ anyone else. As soon as I was brought into his office, where he changed kids, he was stuck on me. He bit my wrist, something he wasn’t supposed to do and that means a lot more than anywhere else, mind you. It almost caused me to die actually, but that’s not really part of this story, is it?”

Andrews raises an eyebrow. “So, we’re supposed to believe that Hale took a specific liking to _you_ and never molested anyone else in the years he was working for the state?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Stiles shrugs. “He wanted to buy me once I went through my training. I was apparently one of his mate choices, and he bribed me all the time to get me to bond with him. I always refused.”

“He bribed you. With what?”

Stiles shrugs again. “Everything. Books, video games, his big house with a pool. He even once offered to find the men who murdered my parents and have them killed. I refused. I wasn’t becoming his mate. I didn’t want it. Not with him.”

Andrews laughs a little. “I’m going to be honest here, Mr. Hale; that doesn’t seem too bad.” Derek can feel every wolf in the room tense. This man is human, he doesn’t understand how mates work and feel, they’re never supposed to force or hurt their chosen mates. He just offended more than half the room.

Stiles glares. “Sure, to you. You’re not a werewolf, man, you don’t get it. It doesn’t seem bad at face value, I guess. But to me it would be another form of slavery. With sex as my duty. And god knows what else. No. He tried to Stockholm Syndrome me into being his mate and I was way too stubborn and smart for that. Not to mention _young_. I was thirteen. So no, I completed my training and left. End of story.”

Andrews pauses, seemingly thinking for a minute. “Well, don’t you think if he really wanted you as his mate, he would have used one of the binding rituals? There are other ways for this to happen.”

Stiles waves a hand. “That’s true, he could have. But he didn’t want that. He wanted my consent. In his own sick way he wanted me to genuinely want him back. No matter how he did it. I snuck off as fast as I could so he couldn’t get his nasty hands on me. That’s the story.”

Andrews considers this, tapping his fingers on the nearest table. “One more question Stiles.” Stiles glares at him for using his first name, something he doesn’t deserve to do. “If this was going on, why didn’t you tell anyone? The guards maybe?”

Stiles laughs hollowly. “They were in on it. He let them watch sometimes, when he would sneak me into his office again, or sneak into my room. They had shifts, one in at a time. He never let them touch though, oh but they wanted to, I could smell it. There are some sick bastards working in these places.” He smiles bitterly. “I gave up after a while. No one would believe me, and it seemed like everyone I told knew, they just didn’t care. Instead, I promised myself to get out fast. I did and now I’m here. Reliving it all for _you_. So thanks for that.” He pauses, staring at Andrews and letting that sink in. “Am I done?”

*****

It takes the council less than an hour to decide where to go. There are no charges, and they formally apologize to Stiles. They promise to keep a better eye on the people who work so close to children, it doesn’t help, but Stiles feels a little better anyway.

That night Stiles shakes. He has nightmares. He thrashes around the bed, and curls into Derek in turns. Derek stays awake and tries to sooth him as best he can. It doesn’t work.

Peter’s dead. Derek killed the man who hurt his mate. Felt his blood on his skin and saw the life flicker from his eyes and he doesn’t feel guilty. He doesn’t feel better either. His wolf is happy about the revenge, but his human side doesn’t feel like it was enough.

But there’s nothing he can do about that. All he has is tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. He has time. Time to paint over Stiles’s painful memories, until they’re barely recognizable, so far in the background Stiles looks over them when he sees the big picture. It’s not enough. But it’s all he has.

*****

**Author's Note:**

> Title Credit: _Lucie, Too_ by Now, Now (has anyone started listening to them because of this? just curious)
> 
> First off: I am not a violent person. I can't handle beatings and rape in movies or tv shows. That's why it's so shallow here, and also why it's taken me so long to get to this part. This was actually going to be before the last update, but porn was easier for me haha.  
> Secondly: I was never planning on putting sexual molestation or assault in this at all. That was never in the cards for me, but it popped into my head and wouldn't leave and beat my brain until I wrote it out. So I'm sorry if it's not ok for you and that I wrote it in the first place. (I'm not even done I am so upset haha)  
> Thirdly: Literally the hardest thing ever was calling Stiles "Mr. Hale" omfg. It sounds so weird ok.
> 
> I've mostly gotten out of my writing block, I guess. But I'm kind of at a standstill on how I want to proceed, and whether or not there's going to be more parts after the that one I have planned so, we'll see, I guess. I'm running out of ideas haha.
> 
> I'm not very pleased with this part, honestly. But I could find a way to rewrite it... So I hope it's not too disappointing for anyone. :)
> 
> My disclaimer stays the same. I don't own Teen Wolf or its characters. I merely stare from afar and make little scenarios in my head. No harm, no foul, right? :)
> 
> *ps. I've never written this much in one go in my life oh my god I'm crying*


End file.
